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Harry Potter: Dark Memories/Read/Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it. Author's Note: Again a thanks to my beta, Throckmorton. If you like what you're reading, please say so, it will only help me type faster. I will probably not make it a habit of updating this soon, but I couldn't -not- post it since I had it written. Book 1 – Part 2: The Wizarding World Harry's eyes never wavered from Hagrid's face as they traveled to London. Everything made so much more sense now, even though they were now so complicated. He was a wizard, and magic was real, and he was going to learn how to use it. His parents had been magic as well, and had not died the way Vernon and Petunia had said. He was also told a little bit about the school he was going to attend, and that a great wizard, called Albus Dumbledore, was the Head Master. That was pretty much all he had been told, since right after Hagrid had given that fitting piggy tail to Dudley, they left. The insanity option was looking null and void at this point, unless he was hallucinating. But could one hallucinate the sights, sounds, and smells of the real world? Harry smiled, getting the feeling Hagrid wanted to be around the Dursley's just as much as he did. "You alright, Harry?" Hagrid asked as they stepped off the city bus. "Yeah, I'm good," he said, jogging to keep up with Hagrid's steps. Hagrid turned and went into a little coffee shop. Harry looked at him curiously. "I uh, figure you have some more questions you want answered," Hagrid said, going to the table in the quiet corner. The shop was quiet and nearly empty, save for the waitress. After ordering and getting some chocolate milk and donuts for the two of them, and when the waitress was out of earshot, Hagrid began talking. Hagrid told him about "Voldemort" and his evil followers, cringing when he quickly said the Dark Lord's name, and Harry couldn't help but do so as well, but he cringed for a different reason… He suddenly felt sick as if he was about to throw up, while Hagrid continued talking, dizzying images twirling around in his head. The table began to shake slightly… Harry bolted, quickly finding the sign for the bathrooms. He could vaguely hear Hagrid hurriedly get up and go after him as the door to the restrooms flew open on their own before him, allowing him to run into the closest stall. Taking several deep breaths, he was thankful that he managed to keep down his chocolate milk, gripping a handle bar on the wall to keep himself steady. "Harry? Are you—are you all right?" Hagrid asked, putting his large hand on Harry's back. Harry nodded, swallowing. "I uh…" He closed his eyes, trying to decide if he should tell him a little bit about his dreams. "Was it the milk?" Hagrid asked, something in his voice telling Harry that if it was, one cook was in for a bit of trouble. "No, I…just, have a name to go with the face now," he whispered, shrinking towards the floor a little. "Yeh remember?" Hagrid breathed. Harry simply nodded again, words failing him. Hagrid just stood there, trying to decide what he should do. "Thanks, Hagrid," Harry mumbled after taking a few more breaths. "Fer what?" "For saving me twice. First that night, and then from the Dursley's." Harry straightened his back, turning slightly. Hagrid was standing outside the stall, unable to fit through the doorway, his broad shoulders pressing against the wobbly metal walls. Harry looked up into his face. "How much do you remember?" Hagrid asked. "I remember that you rode on something that flew us away, after you picked me up. A motorcycle maybe?" Hagrid had tears in his eyes now, and Harry knew he was barely holding himself together. "Hagrid, I thought I was crazy for dreaming all these things… you are real, right?" That was all Hagrid needed, with his large arms, he pulled Harry from the stall, enveloping him with his arms, and choked back a sob. "I'm real." After nearly squeezing Harry's stuffing out, Hagrid released him. "Yer not crazy, and if you ever think yeh are, come ter me," he said, his eyes steady despite having tears about to leak from them. They went back to the table before leaving a very nice tip, (Hagrid didn't understand the value of a fifty) and went out onto the street, both now having collected themselves. "Uh, Harry, before we get your school things, I need ter warn yeh. Everyone knows what happened that night, for the most part, an' because o' that, yer really famous here. Yeh got rid of 'You-Know-Who', so everyone knows yer name." Harry looked up at him surprised, but Hagrid didn't notice as they entered an old raggedy pub, 'The Leaky Cauldron'. "The usual, Hagrid?" a voice called behind the bar. "Can't Tom. I'm on Hogwarts business," Hagrid said, giving a heavy pat on little Harry's shoulder. "Good Lord," the Bartender said, "is this—can this be—?" Harry had never heard such shocked silence before. "Bless my soul," he whispered, "Harry Potter…what an honor." Before Harry knew it, he was suddenly shaking hands with Tom, who had tears in his eyes. Soon after, everyone had gotten up and had surrounded him. He felt a little uneasy being surrounded like that, and he got the strange feeling of being obsessively watched. He turned towards the feeling to find a man with a turban after shaking someone's hand with the name of Dedalus Diggle. "Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid said, before looking to Harry. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of yer teachers at Hogwarts." Harry didn't know why, but he suddenly felt edgy, and meeting Quirrell's eyes, he felt exposed for a moment before he calmed himself within, just like so many other times he had after waking up from a nightmare, or during one of Vernon or Petunia's fits. Quirrell's eyes narrowed slightly before one of them twitched oddly. Harry extended his hand, remembering he should be polite, no matter what his initial feelings from someone were. Quirrell stuttered as he greeted him, shaking Harry's hand limply. Harry was glad when Hagrid took him out of there, and led him past the staring people and into the back. "Uh, Hagrid…is Professor Quirrell…um," Harry began. "He's always nervous like that, got into some trouble in the Black Forest. Poor bloke." Harry shook his head, trying to digest everything as Hagrid tapped on a brink wall, which magically opened. "Welcome, to Diagon Alley." Harry had never seen so many shops before in his life, and he couldn't believe the amount of money he had in Gringotts all this time. They also stopped by another vault, which Hagrid said, 'Hogwarts business, very secret.' Harry looked curiously at the little package that Hagrid promptly stuffed into his coat. Hagrid looked down at him, giving him a serious nod, which Harry returned. Harry was very polite to the goblins, and for some reason, he got this image of a tall, old robed, bearded man bowing slightly in his mind to some goblins. He figured that it couldn't hurt, especially after so many goblins having bowed to them, so when the short goblin had escorted them back out of the vault area, and said 'Farewell', Harry turned to him, gave a slight bow, and said, "May prosperity shroud you like a cloak." The goblin was pleasantly surprised, bowing lower than all the bows Harry had seen thus far. "And may your cloak pockets always be full of gold," he said, standing straight again. Hagrid looked down at Harry, blinking in wonder before they left. Now going to the shops, Hagrid paused. "Harry, where had you heard that before? How did you know to say that? Barely any wizards know that," he said, curious. Harry was suddenly very nervous. How had he known to say that? "I, uh…suppose I must have heard it when we came in," Harry said, not knowing what else to say. "Blimey, Harry, you certainly notice the lit'l things," he said, giving him an approving smile, before they began buying school supplies. It was uneventful for the most part, except for when he was fitted for his robes. He met a blond boy, who he could almost swear he had seen before in his dreams, or at least someone like him. He tried to quell the disturbing feeling that was growing as he talked to the unpleasant boy. He privately decided to try and stay away from him, and even without the strange feelings, the boy was rude, arrogant, and conceited. Harry was thankful for Hagrid who seemed to sense his feelings and cheered him up. He then continued to help him by talking about the weird but fascinating sport called Quidditch, before dropping him off at Ollivander's. Well, at least Harry now knew what those sticks were that he had seen in his dreams. Mr. Ollivander began talking, listing off Harry's parents' wands as he went to him. He then got really quiet, actually lightly touching Harry's scar. Harry was relieved when Ollivander backed away after muttering that he was sorry he had sold the wand that had done that. Harry blinked, not having expected that. He somehow kept down the image of his face from overtaking his mind. He was really nervous when Mr. Ollivander held out a wand for him to try out. He had to consciously tell himself that spells had to be cast, and that they didn't just spew out of their own accord. "Well, aren't you going to take it?" Mr. Ollivander asked, seeing Harry hesitating. Harry took it, only to have it snatched back before being handed another. He listened to Mr. Ollivander talk as he was given wand after wand, Harry pushing back the images of his dreams as Ollivander paused, holding another wand in his hand, looking at it. "Why not?" he said, handing Harry the wand. Harry took it, and the moment he did, he felt unimaginable power. It was both terrifying and gratifying. Red and gold sparks came shooting out like a firework from the tip of his wand, the air shifting around him as things began to rattle on the shelves, and if it hadn't been for Ollivander's excited and thrilled expression, Harry would have panicked. Ollivander explained his wand to him, and that it was a 'brother wand' with 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's' wand. Harry took this all in the best he could before he realized Hagrid was beaming behind him, with a caged Snow Owl. ---- NEXT